Drugs and Geeks
by MadelinBreaker
Summary: The team, minus Grissom, process a massive shootout. Will be GS. Chap. 23 up finally The end has finally arrived!
1. The Crime

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
The lights of Vegas stand out brightly against the darkness of the dessert night. However, the city never seems to sleep. Cars zoom through the streets and nightclub music spills out onto the sidewalks. It starts out as a night that would just blend in with the rest, but then time appears to stop. The world focuses in on a single busy street. The top windows of the buildings on either side of the block open and shadowy figures stick their upper bodies out. Shots rain down onto cars and pedestrians. This night becomes a reminder that crime never makes sense.  
  
I know this is short, but it's just the tag for the beginning. 


	2. The Scene

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
Catherine, Sara, Nick, and Warrick stand on the outside of the crime scene tape looking for the distant end of the yellow. They watch Brass approach them from the other side of the tape.  
  
"What happened here?" Catherine asks.  
  
"That's for you guys to tell us." Brass lowers his head. The magnitude of the situation visibly showing, "By the time any one called 911 everyone within this block was dead."  
  
The team scans the area for any movement beyond that of the uniformed officers securing the crime scene.  
  
"I'll let you guys work you magic." Brass adds quietly and then walks away.  
  
Catherine sighs, "We're going to need everyone with field experience and extra supplies."  
  
"I'll call it in," Warrick volunteers.  
  
"Let Greg come?" Sara inquires.  
  
Catherine smiles weakly and nods.  
  
Warrick separates himself from the group and pulls out his cell phone.  
  
Catherine gathers herself up for the daunting task that lay ahead, "Here's our game plan," she silently cruses Grissom for leaving her to do this on her own "We'll divide the scene into four quadrants. Each of us will head a team. Simple divide and conquer. Let's walk the scene while we wait for back-up."  
  
The four of them, armed with flashlights, duck under the yellow crime scene tape. They proceed carefully making sure not to disturb any of the evidence. Dead bodies line the street. Some look as though life had just stopped for them while other's faces were frozen in terror; the unlucky few huddled in the corners. More than likely they had been the last to die and had witnessed it all. The street was in chaos. Bullet riddled vehicles were stopped at various angles. Points at the time that were escape routes for terrified drivers until a bullet had hit an essential engine part or the driver. Several had crashed into the buildings or other cars. Amazingly none of them had caught fire. Random car doors were open, as passengers had tried to make their escape of foot. Bullet casings, blood, and glass littered the street.  
  
"There isn't any room for shooters down here," Sara points out.  
  
Warrick looks up, "Maybe, they were in one of the buildings."  
  
"I'll ask Brass to find out who the owners are," Catherine responds.  
  
They hear the vehicles of their back-up arriving. It was time to concentrate on the what. The how and why would have to wait until later. 


	3. The Leads

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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The CSI team and Greg return to the lab quite exhausted. Even Greg's enthusiastic smile has faded. The rest of the team would have a few moments rest while waiting for lab results, but Greg was part of creating them. Everyone else heads into the evidence room and collapses into a chair. Nick cracks his neck; Sara and Warrick merely stare out into space while Catherine taps a pen onto the notebook on the table in front of her.  
  
"Let's talk about what we know so far," Catherine suggests, breaking the silence.  
  
"We have forty-six bodies in the morgue, obviously all shot," Nick states glumly.  
  
"Which means a lot of press and a big push to get this case solved," Catherine responds tiredly, knowing it will be her responsibility to deal with that.  
  
The room falls into a heavy silence, "We know the perps weren't standing on the street. What about the buildings?" Sara asks.  
  
"I talked to Brass." Catherine begins, but is interrupted by a knock on the door. She waves Brass into the room.  
  
"Speak of the devil," Sara chimes.  
  
Brass just gives her a look and proceeds with the information he has, "I have a list of the owners of the buildings on either side of the block. Small businesses on the bottom with the tops being rented out as apartments," he shuffles the folders, "Two of the renters have just reported break-ins," he shuffles folders again, "You guys are going to love this. Gun ship five blocks down. Owner came in early this morning to find it cleared out."  
  
"Thanks, Brass," Catherine smiles, happy to have a lead.  
  
"Don't thank me yet. The DOT wants to know when they can have their road back. They don't appreciate have their traffic patterns disturb," Brass responds somewhat sarcastically.  
  
Catherine looks irritated, "Tell them it's still our crime scene."  
  
Brass just nods, hands her the folders, and leaves.  
  
Catherine sighs. She has a much bigger crime scene now than she ever wanted. "Nick, Warrick check out the buildings. Handle the break-in reports first. Sara your with me on the gun shop." They get up, feet lighter at the prospect of getting some answers. 


	4. The two Apartments

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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Nick knocks on the door of the apartment with a uniformed police officer standing neutrally behind him. Warrick has gone to look in on the other report. Divide and conquer Catherine had said. A blonde woman in her early twenties answers the door. "I'm Nick Stokes with the Las Vegas crime lab. You reported a break-in." Nick eyes the door suspiciously, realizing that there are no signs of forced entry.  
  
"Yes, please come in," she responds sweetly. "I'm sorry, my boyfriend already replaced the door. He was so worried with the shooting out front that I couldn't convince him to do otherwise."  
  
Nick smiles, trying to reassure her, "Have you noticed anything missing?"  
  
"No, It's really weird. There's a path of knocked over items that leads to my bedroom, but nothing else has been touched."  
  
"Could I take a look around?"  
  
"Sure," she smiles.  
  
"Sergeant Bailey will take your statement."  
  
Nick moves through the apartment. He notes the pattern of fallen items. He stops and dusts for fingerprints at the likely spots a person would use to catch their balance. There wasn't a clear print to be found. He moves on to the bedroom. Dusts the doorknob and finds more smudged prints. He takes more pictures for reference shots. He then tests the window for GSR. Bingo! And bingo again! One of the nails on the window seal is sticking up. Nick pulls some fibers out from underneath it. He tries dusting for fingerprints, but still comes up with nothing. He opens the window to find a little plastic Ziploc bag wedged underneath. Nick examines the pills inside and shakes his head when he realizes they are Ecstasy pills. He shuts the window and walks back into the living room.  
  
"Ma'am, are these yours?" Nick asks holding the bag up for her to see.  
  
"No, what are they?" she asks honestly confused.  
  
"The person who broke-in must have left them. One of my colleagues or I may visit you again. This may be part of the shooting that happened out front."  
  
The woman grasps.  
  
"Don't worry. We'll keep you informed. What did your boyfriend do with your door?"  
  
"He said he was going to put it by the dumpster."  
  
"Thank you, for you time." Nick and the uniform leave.  
  
He heads to the SUV to put his kit down before going to collect the door. Warrick is already there. "Hey man, Whacha find?" he asks Nick.  
  
"Few fibers and Ecstasy."  
  
"Ecstasy???"  
  
"Looks like our shooters were high."  
  
"Well, that's a lot more interesting than what I found. Cranky old women. GSR on the window seal, though. No prints to speak of."  
  
"That seems to be the common theme. I need you to help get a door and then we can check out the rest of the apartments."  
  
Warrick raises an eyebrow, but follows Nick anyways. 


	5. The Gun Shop

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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Meanwhile, Sara and Catherine weren't having any better luck with the fingerprinting. The entire place was a bit greasy and dusty. The various display cases are smashed and the storeroom door has been pried open.  
  
"I'm going to say our perpetrators wore gloves," Catherine states.  
  
"Yeah," Sara says, lost in thought, "Shouldn't a place like this have a security system."  
  
"You would think so."  
  
They look around for the tell-tell sign of the key code box. It would have been easily missed if someone wasn't looking for it, but it was still there.  
  
"Mr. Pedigrew has some explaining to do," Catherine concludes.  
  
"I'm going to start processing the backroom," Sara calls out.  
  
"Alright," Catherine answers while she exits the gun shop. Mr. Pedigrew had been waiting for them to finish on a bench out front. He stands up when he hears the door open. "Mr. Pedigrew, You have a security system. Why didn't it go off last night?"  
  
"It's been on the fritz the past few days. It kept disarming itself. I called the company, but you know how good repair crews are at responding promptly."  
  
"I'm going to need the name of the company."  
  
"You think I'm lying," he responds irritably.  
  
"No, but I still have to verify your story."  
  
Mr. Pedigrew reluctantly gives her the information. Catherine explains that they should be finished soon.  
  
Inside Sara is photographing the storeroom door. The metal door and doorframe have dents in them where a crow bar like instrument has been used to pry it open. Luckily, at least for those investigating the crime, the person prying open the door had bashed his or her knuckles off the doorframe. Sara finds trace amounts of blood and a few fibers, more than likely from the gloves.  
  
"Any luck?" Catherine asks as she reenters the shop.  
  
"Yeah. Actually, I've got blood," Sara responds, holding up the swab.  
  
The storeroom itself produces nothing for the two CSIs. There are boxes obviously missing from the shelves and various items are strewn across the room, but that doesn't tell them who committed the crime. They collect a list of the missing inventory and leave. 


	6. The Last Apartment

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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Warrick, Nick, and the two uniforms are making their way up the stairs to the last apartment. The door is partially open, probably by the shoe that matches the print on the door. The four men stop to contemplate the situation. The first seven apartments had been secured by their owners. Each of them afraid of what had gone on the night before. It was out of place to find the door open and still battered.  
  
Nick quietly suggests, "Let's go in."  
  
They all nod and pull out their weapons. The two uniforms take the point. One slams into the door while the other jumps into the apartment yelling, "Las Vegas Police!" Nothing in the apartment stirs. They continue to check out the rest of the apartment while Nick and Warrick make their way inside. The uniforms return indicating that it is all clear. The two CSI's do a survey of the apartment. It was pretty much the same as the others. They process the scene just to be official; making sure the footprint on the door is carefully taken care of.  
  
"I think its time to head back to the lab," Nick states.  
  
"Yeah man, this place isn't going to tell us anything." Warrick agrees.  
  
They head back out into the living room to collect their kits and dismiss the uniforms. Just as they are about to leave Warrick notices something ground into the carpet beside his kit.  
  
"Hey Nick, I think I've got some glass here," he picks the pieces up with his tweezers and bags them.  
  
"I don't see anything broken that it would have come from," Nick responds.  
  
Then the door to the apartment comes flying open. "Freeze, buster," A middle-aged women shouts pointing a gun at the two men. They put their hands up.  
  
"We're with the Las Vegas crime lab," Nick states as calmly as possible, "We're here to investigate the shooting that occurred last night."  
  
The woman looks the two men over. She sees their kits and the vests they are wearing. She lowers her weapon, "Alright, but what does that have to do with my apartment."  
  
"We suspect the perpetrators shot from various windows including the ones in your bedroom.  
  
The woman sits down on the couch to process the information, "My friend has a scanner. She called me at work to tell me that it was chaos in front of my apartment. I spent the night at her house. I never even thought that someone would have broken in here."  
  
"Are you going to be alright, Ma'am?" Warrick asks.  
  
"Yes, Yes, I need to get my door taken care of. Are you finished here?"  
  
"Yes, but we may be back."  
  
"Of course."  
  
They leave. 


	7. The Evidence

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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The team is back in the evidence room.  
  
Catherine begins, "We need to connect our crime scenes."  
  
"Well, the apartments are obvious. We found GSR on a window seal in each of them," Warrick states.  
  
"What else did you find?"  
  
"Packet of Ecstasy pills, Jacqui's is checking it for prints. Some glass shards, a few fibers, and a footprint," Nick continues.  
  
"Glass? Could be from the display cases in the gun shop," Catherine concludes.  
  
"What a second," Sara interrupts, "Our shooters were high?"  
  
"Not necessarily," Nick responds, "One of them could have just dropped it."  
  
"This could be drug related," Warrick speculates.  
  
Catherine puts her hand up to stop them, "We're getting ahead of ourselves. Warrick, Sara check out the glass. We need to make sure these two crimes are related. Nick stay with the fingerprint. See if you can bring us in a suspect. I'm going to hound Greg about the blood sample from the gun shop. Hopefully, that will produce a lead."  
  
They head out of the evidence room to accomplish their assigned tasks. 


	8. The Press Invasion

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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Outside the crime lab the press is beginning to get antsy. The morning news had included what little footage they could shoot at the crime scene. They certainly could not repeat that for the evening reports. The press was now out for blood, guts, information, and film footage. Harassing everyone who exited the building wasn't exactly working. However, the Channel 7 News team had a plan to take care of that.  
  
"Bob, I'm not sure if this is a good idea," Angie Fontain, a reporter for Channel 7 whispers.  
  
"Angie, don't worry. We'll be getting a big scoop," Bob, the cameraman, responds.  
  
"I know and that's great, but is this legal?"  
  
"Just follow me," He grabs her hand and pull her down the hallway.  
  
They had been hiding, waiting for the receptionist to turn around for a moment. Bob had a home video camera hidden in the folds of his coat. The quality wouldn't be the best, but it certainly would be better than what those hanging outside got.  
  
Angie and Bob hadn't exactly snuck into the building undetected. Numerous cameramen and reporters had spotted them. They were pretty ticked off about what they had witnessed. It wasn't that they cared that it wasn't how they were supposed to get interviews. It was the fact that they weren't going to get the scoop. The mob of annoyed press sweep past the receptionist area before anyone could stop them.  
  
Sara happened to be walking down the hallway when all this was happening. She was headed to the break room for a cup of coffee. The two glass samples had matched. It wasn't conclusive proof that they were from the same place since that type of glass would be used in thousands of cases, but it was a little more than a coincidence. The noise made by a large crowd of people brought Sara out of her thoughts. She spots the large cameras and groans. Luckily for her Grissom's office is right next to where she has stopped and is surprisingly unlocked.  
  
Sara ducks inside and locks the door. She sits down behind Grissom's desk and pulls out her cell phone to call security. She smiles to herself, They aren't even going to get a no comment out of me. The poor security guards are really embarrassed that a noisy barrage of press had gotten by them.  
  
Sara, however, was stuck in Grissom's office for the time being. She sits at the desk tapping her fingers on the surface. Grissom, I don't know how you can stand the smell of formaldehyde in here, she chuckles, Oh how very Grissom. Then a note on the otherwise blank day planner catches her attention. Grissom had written enough down for Sara to realize what had happened. The puzzle pieces were clicking together, telling Sara how long he had been fighting this. Grissom had never ceased to amaze her. The man of logic had waited to enact the solution to a very serious problem. Sara starts to ponder what she should do with this knowledge.  
  
Angie and Bob had gotten a little further than the rest of the press. Well, at least until they rounded a corner, running straight into Catherine and Greg.  
  
Catherine doesn't recognize them and is immediately suspicious, "Can I help you?"  
  
Bob responds by pulling the camera out of his coat.  
  
Catherine quickly puts her hand over the lens. "I don't know how you two got in here, but now you have a few questions to answer. Greg call security!"  
  
Angie look annoyed. She mumbles to Bob, "I told you this was a bad idea."  
  
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If there is a Channel 7 News (I have dish so I don't know the actual channel numbers) I am not referring to it. It's just a random number I picked. I am not attempting to offend any members of the press by this scene.  
  
Please Review!!!!!! 


	9. The First Arrest

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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Nick had managed to not only get a print from the plastic bag, but a hit on AFIS as well. The fingerprint matches a John Wells, age 19, who had been picked up on a DUI the previous year. Conveniently, It was under the influence of Ecstasy. Nick and Brass are seated in the interrogation room across the table from their suspect.  
  
"Mr. Wells where were you last night or more like early this morning at about one AM?" Nick asks.  
  
"I was at my friends house. We stayed up all night playing his new Playstation game."  
  
"Well, That's funny because we found your fingerprint at a crime scene. On a bag of Ecstasy, no less," Brass states sliding a picture of it across the table to him. He then slides pictures of the crime scene across the table as well.  
  
"Hey man, we popped a few, but we didn't shoot any real people," Wells sits back in his seat like he isn't concerned with the fact that he is being accused of murder. Of course, his personal grooming habits seem to demonstrate that he doesn't care about much of anything.  
  
"Real people?" Nick inquires.  
  
"Yeah, the game. Lots of guns and violence. Great for those masculine urges." "Okay, we'll bite. What exactly do you do in this game?" Brass asks, hoping this will trip him up.  
  
"Well, It's a little more than your basic shoot'em up game. We're not twelve, ya know. It's set in Vegas, which was what made it so appealing. Getting to run around, causing ruckus in your own town."  
  
"We get the point."  
  
"Basic idea, find guns however you can, knock off as many people as you can, and hide the guns however you can before the cops show up and catch you. My friends and I did really well last night. Took out a block and none of us got caught."  
  
"Sounds sick," Brass concludes.  
  
"What I don't get is why get high?"  
  
"It makes it seem more real. Blurs the edges between fantasy and reality."  
  
"Well, we've got more fun for you," Brass states throwing the warrants down on the table, "We have warrants for your shoes and to check your hands for GSR."  
  
"Lift up your foot," Nick looks at the treads. They don't match the one from the door.  
  
"And no I don't own any other shoes."  
  
Brass gives the man a look, "Now let's see those hands."  
  
Nick swabs his hands and sprays it. John Wells undeniably has GSR on his hands.  
  
Brass starts to read him his rights.  
  
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	10. The Hallway

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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Catherine strides down the hallway. Greg had finished processing her blood sample, but they hadn't been able to find a match yet. CODIS was still searching, but at this point it was probably going to take forever. All they knew for sure was that they were searching for a male. She rounds a corner and literally runs into Nick.  
  
"Sorry," Catherine starts, "I've been looking for you. I heard you mad an arrest."  
  
"Yeah, but something doesn't feel right."  
  
"What?"  
  
"The man seemed too calm. I've never seen anyone act so relaxed in an interrogation room when being accused of forty-eight murders."  
  
"He's probably just arrogant. Thinks there's no way we can pin this on him. Anyways, I've sent everyone else home. Go get some rest. We're not going to solve this on a caffeine high."  
  
"Yeah, I'll see you tonight. Say hi to Lindsey for me."  
  
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	11. The Hospital

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story.

Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season.  Grissom is still in the hospital.

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Sara stands in front of the hospital, sunglasses on against the afternoon sun.  She really isn't sure why she's here, but she has to see him.  This revelation really had her frightened.  It wasn't the fact that he hadn't told them.  Grissom just didn't share his personal life even with her.  It was the fact that he had waited so long to have this surgery.  The ramifications to his job alone were phenomenal.  She moves inside and up to the reception desk. 

"I'm looking for a Gil Grissom."

The woman types his name into the computer, "Fourth floor, Room 409."

"Thank you."

Sara rides the elevator up to the fourth floor and easily locates Grissom's room.  The nurse is just leaving.

"I'm sorry miss, but he's asleep.  For some odd reason he'll only sleep during the day."

"Yeah, I work the night shift with him.  Could I just sit with him for a moment?  I promise I won't wake him up," Sara gives her one of her hundred watt smiles.

"I suppose that would be alright."

Sara enters the room and pulls a chair up beside the bed.  She holds his hand and rubs her thumb over it gently.  "_I wonder if he'll ever let me do that while he's conscience."  _The fatigue begins to catch up with Sara at this point.  She, of course, had stayed up longer then this before, but it hadn't included processing that much street or ten vehicles.  She falls asleep with her head on the mattress.  

Several hours later Grissom slowly opens his eyes, coming to terms with exactly where he is located.  However, all is not right in the world of Grissom.  His hand had fallen asleep.  He looks over to investigate why and sees a pool of dark brown hair. "_Sara!_" is all he can think.  The temptation to stroke her hair is too much for him to resist and so he indulges.  However, Sara begins to stir under his hand.

She tilts her head up slightly to look at him and groggily says, "Hi."

Grissom looks bemused at the sleepy Sara for a moment, but then his face turns serious, he manages to croak out, "Sara, I can't hear you."

Sara quickly sits up the rest of the way.  She notes the bandages on his head and prays that's the reason why. "**_That's alright.  We can improvise_**," Sara signs.

Sara moves to sit on the edge of the bed.  The lowness of the chair would have made a signing conversation difficult.  They would have had to strain to see each other.

"**_Since when do you know sign langue?_**"

His hand then settles lightly on her thigh.  Sara almost gives him a weird look, but then he probably would have removed it.

"**_Since I met you._**"

The tension in the room multiplies ten-fold.  Grissom sighs and looks down.  He didn't have his glasses to play with; they were sitting on the table beside his bed.  He sighs again and looks up, almost wishing that she would walk out like she always did.

"**_I still don't know what to do about this._**"

"**_Neither do I,_**" Sara admits reluctantly.

Grissom gives her a quizzical look.

"**_I lied,_**" Oh great, I didn't come here to back him into a corner.  Well, It was really him that had broached the subject.

The moment is interrupted by the doctor knocking on the door.  He steps in hesitantly with an interpreter following close behind.

"**_Aw, Mr. Grissom your finally awake_**," the interpreter signs for the doctor.

Grissom just looks at him.  The man's obvious cheerfulness was grating on his nerves.

The doctor continues on about what he needs to do at home and when his check-up would be.  When the doctor mentions his ride arriving Grissom's hand, which is no longer resting on Sara's thigh, forms a "C" against his own.

Sara nods and then her cell phone rings.

The doctor looks very annoyed, "You're going to have to take that to the waiting area before you mess up the machines."

Sara exits the room, answering the phone as soon as she's out the door, "Sidle."

"Sara this is Catherine.  Grissom's going to kill me, but…"

Sara interrupts her, "I already know."

"How?"

"I'll explain later."

"Alright, but I need you to pick him up at the hospital.  Lindsey's sick and I managed to get the last doctor's appointment."

"Don't worry I'll take care of it."

"Thank you."

"I'll see you tonight," she hits end and heads back to the room.

The doctor had left, leaving Grissom to fill out the discharge forms.

"**_That was Catherine_**, " she signs when she gets his attention, "**_She asked me to take you home._**"

Grissom looks puzzled.  It wasn't like Catherine to shirk responsibility or to betray his confidence.

"**_Lindsey's sick_**."

Grissom nods in understanding.  "**_Could you give this to the nurse_**, "he hands her the clipboard, "**_I need to change_**."

Sara indicates that she would wait for him in the waiting area.

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	12. The First Visit

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story.

Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season.  Grissom is still in the hospital.

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The ride to Grissom's apartment is made without conversation.  The simple fact is that Sara can't drive and sign at the same time.  They are surprisingly comfortable together despite the conversation that was interrupted in the hospital.  The unresolved tension between them has been part of their lives for the past three years.  It is just normal to them.  Sara pulls up in front of Grissom's apartment building (I know he actually owns a house, but this is for my story purposes later).  She waits for Grissom to decide what happens next.

"**_Would you like to come in for some coffee_**?"

"**_Sure_**," Sara responds with a small smile.  _He'll invite me into his apartment for coffee, but he won't take me out to diner at a public place._

They exit the car together.  Sara follows him into the building and then into his apartment.  He indicates that she should sit on the couch.

Grissom slowly moves through the actions necessary to make coffee.  _She's just as confused as you are.  Keep repeating that to yourself.  You can check reason number one off your list of the whys that prevent you from having a relationship with her.  She knows sign language.  Your hearing is no longer an issue._  Grissom turns the coffee pot on and then returns to the living room area.  Sara is sound asleep on the couch.  Grissom gently moves her legs so that she is actually lying on the couch.  Grissom places a blanket over her and then moves a few errant strands of hair out of her face.  He turns the coffee pot off and then goes to empty the contents of his hospital bag.

Around an hour and a half later Sara wakes up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee.  She sees that the television is on with the volume turned down all the way and the closed captioning on.  Grissom is sitting on a chair, hunched over the coffee table, with a plate of toast and a cup of coffee.  Sara reaches out to touch his knee to get his attention.  Grissom sets down his cup of coffee, "**_Your awake_**."

Sara sits up, "**_How long have I been asleep_**?"

"**_Hour and a half.  Coffee, toast?_**"

"**_What is coffee toast?_**" Sara signs with a smile.

Grissom arches an eyebrow and then goes to the kitchen to get her some.  They quietly coexist while they consume their food, but Grissom decides that "this" needs discussed before he loses his nerve. "**_Sara, We need to talk_**."

"**_I thought we agreed that we did not know what to do_**."

"**_Sara, the answer to a problem is not simply agreeing on not knowing what the solution is_**."

"**_It maybe for us.  Well, at least for now_**."

"**_Sara, I am not following you_**."

"**_Grissom, we have not been this comfortable around each other for quite sometime.  Let us just let it be.  We are not a case that needs to be analyzed, solved, and then filed away_**."

Grissom nods.  _She's right of course.  You want to step back and she wants to step forward.  Perhaps, it would be best just to enjoy this neutrality._

"**_How long have you known?_**" Grissom sings to change the subject.

"**_Know what?_**"

Grissom points to his head.

"**_I found out earlier today by accident_**."

Grissom tilts his head to the side a little, encouraging her to explain.

"**_Can you believe the press actually had the audacity to enter the crime lab today.  Big cameras, waving microphones, and all.  You left your office unlocked so I ducked inside to avoid them and call security.  It is written plan as day on your day planner_**."

"**_What were you doing snooping around my desk_**?"

"**_Plain sight_**," Sara smiles, "**_Red ink on an otherwise blank day planner catches the eye_**."

Grissom raises an eyebrow, "**_What was the press so interested about?_**"

"**_Big case.  Forty-eight dead.  We still have the street blocked off and a cleaned out gun shop a few blocks down_**."

"**_Evidence_**?"

"**_The pieces are falling together.  I think Nick made an arrest before Catherine chased us home, but I did not get a chance to take to him_**."

"**_You were not the last to leave_**?"

"**_I had somewhere I had to be_**."

Their eyes lock.

"**_I was concerned_**."

"**_Why_**?"

"**_You waited_**."

"**_I thought it would go away_**."

"**_That does not make any sense_**."

"**_I know_**."

They freeze, still looking into each other's eyes, connecting.

Sara looks down, breaking the contact, "**_I need to go. I have to shower and change before the shift starts.  I have a lot of work to do_**."

Grissom nods and walks her to the door.  He has one hand on the door and the other on the doorframe.  Sara turns around to give him one last smile.  He catches her face, running his thumb down her cheekbone.  "Come back later," he mouths.  "I'll page you," she mouths back.  He lets her go and down the hallway she strides.

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JD Burns, you asked where the two uniformed officers went.  Nick and Warrick dismissed them before they packed up their kits.  They then discovered glass and had to look around to see where it came from.  The uniforms had plenty of time to exit the building and drive away.


	13. The Rescue

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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The CSI team is once again gathered in the evidence room, well that is everyone except for Nick.  
  
"Has anyone seen Nick lately?" Catherine inquires.  
  
"I haven't seen him since the beginning of the shift," Sara responds. Warrick just shakes his head.  
  
Nick picks that moment to show up, "Sorry, I was talking to Greg."  
  
Everyone just stares at him.  
  
"About the Playstation game, Mr. Wells claims he was playing at the same time he was committing a crime."  
  
"Had Greg heard of it?" Sara asks.  
  
"More or less. It's a very graphic game, but the opponents shoot each other, not innocent by standards."  
  
"That means that he is lying," Warrick states.  
  
"Or that he was so high that he mixed all the details up," Sara throws a wrench in to the observation.  
  
"Either way the evidence still points to Mr. Wells," Catherine interrupts, attempting to pull them into more productive reasoning, "Warrick, did you get the background check on the women who rents that apartment and her boyfriend?"  
  
"Yeah, they're clean. Employee drug tests are always negative. They're boss couldn't praise them more."  
  
"One more possibility eliminated," Catherine sighs.  
  
"I ran the fiber analysis on the samples we collected from the gun shop and that apartment," Sara starts, "You know those one size fits all gloves that you can buy cheap at like Wal*Mart. Well, that's what our perp was wearing. The fiber from the apartment is from a cotton t-shirt. Unless we can find the gloves and the t-shirt, they're a dead-end."  
  
"My luck wasn't much better," Nick huff, "That shoe print I found belongs to Nike's most popular seller last year. Half of Vegas must own a pair."  
  
"Actually, man, I think I do," Warrick laughs.  
  
"Well guys were stumped because CODIS displayed a big "no match" on my blood sample."  
  
"I guess that makes me a hero," Brass gruffs as he comes into the evidence room, "Mr. Wells and his court appointed lawyer have decided to cooperate. I have a list of his friends and permission to search his residence. He still thinks he has nothing to hide. However, the criminals of Las Vegas have come out again. Woman shoots a burglar with his own gun and a guy tried to rob that little coffee shop down the street. Take a guess at how many cops were there?"  
  
"Thanks Brass," Catherine smiles.  
  
"Sure," He turns to leave, "Do you want me to round up those suspects?"  
  
"In the morning. See if you can get me a warrant for their DNA."  
  
Brass nods and actually leaves this time.  
  
"Sara, justifiable homicide, Warrick take the coffee shop, Nick your with me. Let's check this guy's apartment out."  
  
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	14. The Apartment of John Wells

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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John Wells's apartment isn't in much better shape then his personal grooming habits. Pizza boxes litter the coffee table and who knows when the last time anyone washed the dishes.  
  
Catherine groans as she scans the room with her flashlight, "What is the younger generation coming to?"  
  
"I don't know. I can assure you my apartment never looked like this."  
  
Catherine eyes him, not sure if she should believe him.  
  
"What exactly are we looking for?" Nick continues.  
  
"The murder weapons, that t-shirt, gloves, maybe even your shoes."  
  
"I doubt we're going to find any shoes here. He claims he owns only one pair."  
  
"And you believe him?"  
  
"Do you see any shoes?"  
  
"No, I guess not. I'll take the bathroom and the bedroom. You can take the kitchen and the living area."  
  
Nick nods and they split up.  
  
They don't have to search long before Catherine finds something interesting. She brings the bagged t-shirt out into the living area to show Nick, "Hey, Isn't this interesting. Same color and a hole in the front."  
  
"Catherine, this just doesn't add up. Why would he let us search the place with that laying around?"  
  
"I don't know Nick, but for once I think we should take Grissom's advice and just follow the evidence."  
  
Catherine turns to go back into the bedroom, but Nick stops her, "Hey Cath, look at this."  
  
Nick has opened what must be the coat closet. Inside are a few work shirts and a black coat with leather gloves sticking out of the pocket.  
  
"Bag it. We'll see what we can find on it in the lab."  
  
"If he had gloves, why wasn't he wearing them while he was firing?"  
  
"Huh" is all Catherine can say.  
  
"I found GSR on his hands, but no finger prints on the window. Why take them off to fire?"  
  
"Maybe, he doesn't like the feel, but it does mean that we should find his prints on the guns when we find them."  
  
"Yeah, Let's get this finished. I can tell you don't like it here. Too much mold," Nick smirks.  
  
Catherine gives him a look, but returns to the bedroom. The rest of the apartment doesn't yield anything useful.  
  
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	15. The Seven Suspects

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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Sara stands looking into the interrogation room through the one-way mirror when Catherine comes in to join her. One of the seven new suspects is inside with Nick, Warrick, and Brass. These suspects appear to respond to Nick and Warrick. Somehow they still manage to slip into the world of the youth. Brass is in there to keep the suspects on edge. His gruffness could frighten those who do not know him.  
  
"Look at his hand," Catherine says pointing at the man's left hand.  
  
Sara focuses in on it. The bruises are quite obvious and so is a ragged cut that is infected, "I think he's our guy form the gun shop."  
  
"Greg will confirm it when he gets around to running the tests. Even the criminals are afraid to go out at night. Days has the lab backed up into the middle of next week."  
  
"We've almost got this nailed despite the fact that they all appear to believe they were playing video games all night."  
  
"How long have you been in here?"  
  
"For most of it. I can't do anything else with my case until the autopsy is performed to confirm my findings. That t-shirt you brought me was an easy match to the fibers found in the apartment."  
  
"I've been stuck with paperwork all night long and most of morning."  
  
Sara chuckles.  
  
"Fill me in on what's happened."  
  
"We've almost got them. All of them still have GSR on their hands. I don't think any of them ever wash their hands. I think it's the second suspect who is wearing Nick's shoes. He looked like a little kid at Christmas when the prints finally matched."  
  
"All their prints are going to be on those firearms once we find them."  
  
"And they would still stick to that video game story. I don't understand how they haven't cracked yet. I mean their average age is nineteen, they're on drugs, and don't seem to know how to bath themselves. How can they act so well?"  
  
"I think that is the key to solving this case."  
  
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	16. The Second Visit

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story.

Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season.  Grissom is still in the hospital.

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Grissom is sound asleep in bed with his pager firmly clipped to the pillow.  He prays the vibration will be enough to wake him up.  He really doesn't want Sara showing up on his doorstep without some prior warning, but he really needed to get some sleep.  The surgery hadn't required any large incisions, but it still has a traumatizing affect on the body.  Grissom stirs slightly in his sleep, shaking himself from a nightmare about an earthquake.  He rubs his eyes, but realizes his pillow is still shaking.  He grabs his pager and reads the message, "1230 Cook."  Grissom looks at his clock and finds that he has forty-five minutes to come up with something vegetarian.

Forty-five minutes later Sara stands in front of Grissom's apartment door wondering how she's going to get inside.  Knocking on the door isn't going to do her a lot of good and she's really hungry.  As usual, she had forgotten to eat during the shift.  Luckily Grissom had the foresight to realize this and the knob turns when Sara tries it.  She watches Grissom pull something from the oven that smells wonderful.  Grissom on the other hand didn't look that wonderful.  He has an apron on over his pajamas and his bed head is made worse by the bandaging.  Grissom turns around and notices that Sara has arrived.

He takes his oven mitts off in order to sign, but is met with an odd expression, "**_Is something wrong?_**"

What Sara hadn't realized was that Grissom's glasses are smudged with flour and so are the sides of his face, "**_No, but next time I'm going to call sooner_**."

Grissom takes his glasses off in order to give himself a moment to think about what she's just said and notices the flour on them.  He grabs the edge of his apron to clean them, but sees that his pajamas are still underneath, "Excuse me."

As soon as his back is turned, Sara bursts out laughing.  _Okay so maybe I do bring chaos to his life.  _When she calms down, she stops herself from scanning the room.  Her instinct to investigate is almost second nature, but she doesn't want Grissom to be uncomfortable.  _I'm prying enough by just being here.  _Sara takes a seat at Grissom's tiny kitchen table.

Sara is pondering his choice of placemats when he finally emerges from his bedroom, "**_I made cheese and spinach casserole_**."

"**_It smells delicious.  I am starved._**"

"**_Sara Sidle admitting she is hungry_**."

Sara just glares at him.

Grissom doesn't even bother trying to start a conversation until he sees her fork moving at a normal pace.

"**_How is the case progressing_**?"

"**_The guy we arrested yesterday gave us a list of his friends he claims to have been with that night.  Greg snuck the lab tests though and we got one of them up on charges for robbing the gun shop.  Other than Nick's shoe print, which could actually belong to half of Las Vegas, we cannot place the rest of them at the crime scene._**"

"**_What are their alibis?_**"

"**_They were playing a new play station game and getting high.  They are way too convincing though.  We are accusing them of murder and they are putting their feet up on the table._**"

"**_Perhaps they believe what they are saying_**."

"**_You are saying they are blocking it out_**."

"**_Sara, I am not saying anything.  I am not on the case.   Just keep following the evidence_**."

"**_I know.  That is what Catherine keeps telling us_**."

"**_It is sound advice_**."

They both are done eating so Grissom gathers the plates up.  Sara moves over to the couch and flips on the TV.  Grissom puts the leftover casserole in the refrigerator and then goes into the living room to find Sara curled up on the couch watching an episode of the X-Files with the closed caption still on.  Grissom sits down and is about to ask her when she started watching the X-Files, but he realizes she's sleep.  He puts a blanket over her and changes the channel to something he wants to watch.  

Sara wakes up about five hours later to her cell phone ringing.  She pulls her cell phone out of her pocket, but doesn't bother sitting up.

"Sidle."

"Hey, It's Catherine.  We've got a call that's probably our missing firearms.  Can you come in?"

"Sure."

"See you in a few."

Sara hits end and sits up rubbing her neck.  _Grissom, you need a more comfortable couch._

Grissom is slumped over in the chair.  Sara debates about whether or not to wake him up, but realizes that that position cannot be comfortable.

He stirs groggily and croaks out, "what?"

"**_I have to go.  Catherine just called.  We might have a lead_**."

Grissom stands up rubbing the back of his neck and then starts to sway.  Sara puts one hand on his back and grabs his arm with the other to steady him.  Sara tries to get him to sit back down, but he starts to move toward the bedroom.  Sara is forced to follow him in order to keep him from falling.  As soon as he's inside he starts to undress.  _He's definitely not awake._  She averts her eyes and makes sure he's safely in bed before leaving.  She finds a pad of paper by the phone and writes him a note.  She sets in under his pager.  She shuts off the lights and heads back to work.

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	17. The Dump Site

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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"Hey," Sara says as she walks into the break room.  
  
"Hey, yourself," Catherine responds as she turns around from the coffee pot, "You haven't changed?"  
  
"Nice observation. I fell asleep on the couch."  
  
Catherine is not sure what that has to do with her changing, but decides not to push.  
  
Sara walks over to pour herself a cup of coffee, "So where are we headed?"  
  
"Dessert. Some teenagers riding 4-wheelers found a burial sight complete with shovels."  
  
"They didn't touch anything, did they?"  
  
"No, they were too afraid of finding a dead body to get that close. I just hope we don't actually find any dead bodies."  
  
Nick and Warrick come into the break room.  
  
"Okay we're here," Nick states obviously, "Let's get this show on the road."  
  
Catherine raises an eyebrow at him, "Grab your gear. Let's take advantage of the few hours of daylight we have left."  
  
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Brass has the scene already secured when they arrive. A big yellow square keeps back a small crowd. The four-wheeling teenagers had brought their friends back to watch.  
  
Catherine walks up to him, "What have you got for us?"  
  
"Dump site with thirteen year old spectators."  
  
"If we're lucky it'll be what we're looking for."  
  
"Yeah luck."  
  
Catherine moves over to the rest of the team, "Sara photograph the scene. Nick, Warrick all of these footprints need cast. I'm going to get these shovels bagged and see if Brass can get someone to take them back to the lab. Then we'll find out what's been buried here."  
  
"The suspense is killing me," Nick jokes.  
  
They begin their assigned tasks with efficiency, working around each other carefully. Eventually they put jump suits on and start sifting through the sand. As was suspected, they find the contents of the gun shop. Luckily the weather lately has been mild making the chances of finding useful prints very likely. After what seems like an eternity, they pack up and head back to the lab. It is now up to the lab rats to close this case for them.  
  
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	18. The Answer

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story. Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season. Grissom is still in the hospital.  
  
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"We've got them," Catherine says, slamming the AFIS printouts onto the table.  
  
"So much for the lie detector test John Wells took," Warrick snorts.  
  
"How can a guy like Wells be smart enough to fool a lie detector test?" Nick asks.  
  
"Maybe he believes what he is saying," the wheels in Sara's head are turning, "Nick, you said that the video game is similar, but not exact to the crime."  
  
"Yeah," Nick responds not sure what Sara is getting at.  
  
"And we know they were high."  
  
"Reality was blended into fantasy," Nick continues, catching on to Sara's reasoning.  
  
"So they really believe they were playing a video game," Warrick concludes skeptically.  
  
A hush falls over the team as they contemplate the reality of the crime.  
  
"And they say video games do not lead to violence," Catherine quietly speaks.  
  
"Man, forty eight lives." Warrick trails off and shakes his head sadly.  
  
"The evidence never lies," Sara speaks softly, "But drugs do."  
  
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Please Review!! Thank you to those who have reviewed!  
  
I'm afraid I will not be updating as often. Classes have started and I do not have nearly as much time to write. 


	19. The Revelation

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story.

Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season.  Grissom is still in the hospital.

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Sara tiredly unlocks her apartment door.  Watching the remaining six men be brought in had been unsettling.  Normally an arrest is satisfying and brings a welcome closure to the family, but the lack of motivation behind this crime is disturbing.  It's like the mind just cannot wrap itself around the concept.  She shuts the door behind herself and throws her keys on the counter.  _Maybe I should have gone to Grissom's.  _The idea of a shower and appeasing her drooping eyelids make the point moot.  She smiles at the thought of falling asleep on Grissom's couch again.  She really isn't sure how long the peace with Grissom is going to last. _Why is he being so open?  Perhaps he's just glad that someone can understand him.  _She shakes her head at how slow the conversation actually was.  _I really need to get a more comprehensive book.  Spelling all the technical terms out is frustrating._  Her momentary lapse into thought is stopped by a knock on the door.

She opens the door to find her building supervisor standing there with a plant.

"This was delivered for you earlier," he explains.

"Thanks," she replies, wondering why Grissom would send her another plant.  He hadn't done anything stupid lately that she new of.

"And tell your boyfriend not to have anymore plants delivered in the middle of the night," he continues grumpily.

"Sorry, he can be so inconsiderate at times," Sara responds and shuts the door when he walks away.

She opens the card and begins to read: I know you haven't eaten.  Come over.  From Grissom.

Sara's stomach rumbles.  _I guess sleep can wait._

She takes a quick shower and then packs a bag, figuring she would probably fall asleep on his couch again.  

Across town Grissom is sitting seemingly calm watching television.  However, on the inside he is very unsure.  The plant had been an act of desperation; he really didn't want to be alone in the silence.  He ponders whether this is an excuse just to see her.  He also isn't sure if Sara is going to show up.  The temporary truce has made Grissom realize how much he has missed Sara, but that only made his uneasiness worse.

Grissom turns off the television and picks up a book to read.  He has given up on staring at the door.  Sara would come or she wouldn't

A short period of time later Sara once again stands in front of Grissom's door.  She hadn't intended on bringing her bag up to his apartment, but after the car ride over she wanted to make it clear to Grissom that she is staying.  She had drifted off twice on the way over despite the short drive and her blaring radio.  She opens the door slowly wondering if she is going to be greeted with a similar sight to last time.

However, the setting is completely different.  Grissom is sitting on the couch reading with his glasses perched on his nose.  Sara sets her bag down and then plops onto the couch beside Grissom.  His book goes flying and he attempts to recover from the shock.  Sara places her hand on Grissom's shoulder to steady him.  Both of them are caught off guard by their reactions to the touch.  They are frozen for a moment.  Neither of them is sure what to do.  They had decided to ignore "this" for a while, but now it is staring them in the face.

"**_It is not nice to sneak up on someone_**," Grissom signs.

Sara smiles, the tension in the room has evaporated, "**_Where is my food_**?"

Grissom smiles slightly at her directness, "**_In the refrigerator.  With you, I could have been waiting for days_**."

"**_What is that suppose to imply_**?"

"**_You work too much_**," he stands up and moves to the kitchen.  The vegetarian dish would only take a few minutes to rewarm.

Sara makes her way to the kitchen table, obviously fighting sleep.  The adrenalin that had woken her up a few minutes ago is vanishing quickly.

"**_Sara, are you alright_**?"

"**_Just tired_**," She signs without energy.

Grissom raises an eyebrow.

Sara knows full well what that meant "**_We closed a high profile case this morning_**."

"**_That may, for once, excuse the overtime, but not forgetting to eat_**."

"**_I am eating now if you would just hurry up.  You are not going to give me the get a diversion speech again, are you?_**"

"**_No, it did not have the desired effect the first time_**."

"**_And what was that suppose to be_**?"

"**_Obviously not what happened_**," Grissom turns back to the oven.  He had hoped to repair some of the damage, not rehash it.

Sara growls quite audibly, not that Grissom can hear her.  Sara is very frustrate and cranky to top it off.  _He's going to have to turn around eventually._

Grissom does turn around, but only to set the dish of food of the table.  The tension in the room is heavy and very negative.

Sara tries to eat, but throws her silverware down in defeat, "**_I cannot eat like this_**."

"**_Sara, I cannot erase the past_**."

She sighs.  _He's right, but damn his emotional detachment.  _"**_I just want to know why it happened_**."

"**_My reasonings were selfish, but they seemed logical at the time.  I cannot take responsibility for your decisions_**."

_Cryptic, but I guess I can't blame him for my bad judgment.  _"**_Why were you upset with me the night of cannibal cheerleader case_**?"

"**_I was not angry with you_**."

Sara raises an eyebrow.

"**_If you recall the night, we were undermanned and over worker.  I would have been frustrated with anyone who did not answer my pages_**."

"**_Then why did you send me out alone?  Punish me_**?"

Grissom looks confused, "**_It was not supposed to be a punishment.  I trusted you to be able to handle the case on your own_**."

"**_And you did not tell me this when I asked because_**…"

"**_You never gave me a chance.  You vanished_**."

The sleep deprivation, the unsettling case, emotional frustration, and this new revelation come crashing down on Sara.  The tears silently roll down her face.  Grissom stands up and Sara panics that he's going to leave her alone in misery.  However, he walks no further than Sara's side of the table and holds out his hand.  Sara hesitantly grabs his hand and Grissom pulls her into his arms.  He lets her cry on his shoulder.

The moments tick by and Grissom begins to contemplate what to do next.  If they just stood there, the moment would become awkward.  For once, Grissom acts spontaneously.  He picks Sara up and carries her to the couch.  With some very impressive juggling on his part, especially in his current state of health, he manages to end up spooning her on the couch.  Sara doesn't even try to fight her eyelids and Grissom soon follows.

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I'm afraid I will not be updating as often.  Classes have started and I do not have nearly as much time to write.


	20. The Shock

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story.

Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season.  Grissom is still in the hospital.

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Sara slowly comes back to consciousness.  She feels terrible.  Her nose is stuffed from crying and her whole body feels sticky from sweat.  She tries to get up, but Grissom's arms are too tightly wrapped around her.  It's only then that she truly realizes what had happened last night.  A small smile plays across her face, but quickly fades to confusion.  _What the heck does this mean?_  Sara doesn't have the answer and realizes Grissom probably doesn't either.  Her yucky feelingness finally wins out and so she untangles herself to investigate the bathroom.

Grissom wakes with a start.  It's like his body has just registered that Sara is gone, despite the fact that she had gotten up twenty minutes ago.  His first thoughts are of where Sara had gone.  For a panicked moment he fears that Sara had left, but he sees her car keys still sitting on the kitchen counter.  He sighs in relief when he sees that his bathroom door is shut.  Grissom begins the task of making breakfast.  It gives him a chance to think.  "_How much have we hurt each other by misunderstandings in the past three years?  How many times has someone accused me of not feeling anything?  We're supposed to follow the evidence, not our own feelings.  Look at the trouble even a hint of a relationship with Sara caused at the Haviland trial_" He sighs and realizes the battle has already been lost. " _I want her to be here now and I'm comfortable with her being here._  He chuckles a little.  _Ecklie hasn't broken down the door yet._  A small amount of the boyishness that was so evident in his personality three years ago has now returned.  So much of the stress that has darkened his personality in the last year has resolved itself.  Surgery complete, Hank gone, Sara here, Work, well they would figure that out.  He then does something very unGrissom like.  He takes a spare key out of a draw and puts it on Sara's key ring.  _Now, I can lock my door again._  

Sara emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, happy to find the smell of coffee permeating the room.  She smiles at the sight of Grissom carefully setting out plates for them.  Grissom smiles weakly back at her, now very unsure in her presence.

"**_Are you feeding me again_**?"

"**_I do not remember you eating much last night_**."

Sara sits down, not ready to confront that issue just yet.  She is surprised to find a plate of pancakes sitting in front of her.  "**_Where did you get pancakes at_**?"

"**_Bisquik_**"

"**_You have a box of Bisquik_**."

"**_Yes, Sara I have a box of Bisquik. Is there something significant about that?_**"

"**_It means you cook a lot.  Bisquik is similar to duct tape_**."

"**_It is very much like an experiment, chemistry_**."  Grissom sees the look of puzzlement on Sara's face, "**_You do not agree_**?"

"**_I'm a physicist_**."

"**_Your ID says you are a psychiatrist_**."

"**_Yeah, Grissom I've had a real successful career doing that_**."

"**_You are right_**," Grissom's head sinks sadly.

"**_We are avoiding what we really need to talk about_**."

"**_I know_**."

"**_What did last night mean_**?"

Grissom picks up has glasses and begins to study them.  Somehow thinking they will help him formulate clearer sentences.

"**_Your glasses are not going to answer the question_**."

Grissom starts to laugh, which catches Sara completely off guard.  

He manages to look serious again, "**_Sara just let things progress naturally.  Forcing it does not work, obviously_**."

Sara's jaw could not have dropped any further.  She was expecting him to ignore the issue or at least put up a fight.  

"**_Do you not have to go to work today_**?"

Sara nods, but she is still in shock.  She moves off in a daze to get ready.

Grissom smiles to himself, but uncertainly soon creeps into the moment.  He doesn't know what will happen when he finally has to return to the real world.  

----------------------

Please Review!!  Thank you to those who have reviewed!

I'm afraid I will not be updating as often.  Classes have started and I do not have nearly as much time to write.


	21. The Key

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am not making any money by writing this story.

Author's note: This occurs after the last episode of the third season.  Grissom is still in the hospital.

Sara strolls into the locker room still in a daze.  She is attempting to digest exactly what Grissom had said.  _A few weeks ago he hadn't been willing to go to dinner with me and now well….  _She really isn't sure what he wants.  "_Don't force it."  _She slams her locker shut and sighs.  _Why the hell does he have to be such an enigma?  _She gets up and heads to the break room.  

"Hey, Sara," Nick callsas she enters, "I tried to call you earlier.  Where were you?"

Sara pauses caught off guard by the question, "Sorry, I went out," she shrugs it off, "Was it important?"

"No, I just wanted to see if you wanted to catch a meal before work."

"Oh, I'll catch you some other time," She pours herself a cup of coffee.

"Yeah, sure," Nick responds, but still curious as to where she had been.

Catherine saves Sara from any further questioning when she breezes into the room, "Busy night," she exclaims, shuffling through the assignment slips," Series of convenience store robberies.  Warrick's already there.  Nick, join him.  Sara we've got a B and E gone bad."

Nick hurries out of the room, hoping to get to the scene before Warrick collects all the good evidence.  

"How's Grissom?" Catherine asks while Sara finishes her coffee.

"He seemed fine when I dropped him off," Sara responds dismissively.

"And you just left him there?  Never went back to check on him?"

"Didn't you?" Sara tries to shift the attention back to Catherine, "I'm sure he's fine.  It's Grissom.  Do you think he would want us bugging him?" Sara hides a smile behind her coffee cup.  _If she only knew.  _

"Yeah, I suppose you're right about that," Catherine acknowledges, "Come on we have a crime to solve."

Sara throws her coffee cup in the trash and follows Catherine out the door.

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Grissom washes the breakfast dishes, pondering what he had said to Sara that evening.  A smile forms on his lips; for once his life was looking up.  The only problem he has is what to do now.  Sara isn't exactly going to wait for him to sort out the apprehension and uncertainty he feels about the situation.  He doesn't know how to keep her happy while giving himself a chance to adjust.  He dries the dishes lost in thought and carefully places them back in the covert.  A light bulb finally goes on in his head.  The idea didn't exactly go along with his non-forcing statement from earlier, but it would make Sara happy.

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Sara collapses onto the bench in the break room.  The B and E had been heartbreaking.  The youngest daughter had heard the break-in, but thought it was the family dog.  The robber had freaked and shot the little girl as she came down the steps.  She was in critical condition at the hospital because the robber had called 911 himself.  Catherine and Sara job was easy, but it didn't make the night any less devastating.  The perpetrator was in custody, but only time would tell if the girl would pull through.  Sara sighs and then opens her locker.  It was time to go home or at to Grissom's apartment.  That thought makes her smile, but just as she grabs her keys Catherine enters the room.

"How are you holding up?"  Sara asks.

"Fine," Catherine responds like she doesn't know why Sara would be asking that.

Sara gives her a knowing look, but lets it go.

Catherine responds with a weird look of her own, "Is that a key to Grissom's apartment?"

"What?"  Sara looks shocked.  She hadn't noticed the key Grissom had slipped onto her key ring yet.  "I thought you had just dropped him off?" She raises an eyebrow accusatorily.

Sara ignores Catherine's question, her voice dripping with acid.  She doesn't like Catherine cornering her, "And I suppose you know it's his because he gave you one?" 

"No," Catherine states clearly, trying to get Sara's ruffled feathers to smooth out, "You know we're all behind you two."

Sara doesn't listen; she grabs her keys and leaves.

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Sara uses the key to open Grissom's apartment, slams inside, and then bangs into the bathroom, leaving Grissom to stare in her wake.  

Grissom has no idea what to do.  He can't exactly have a conversation with her through the bathroom door.  Sara solves his problem by storming back out of the bathroom.  She paces back and forth in the living, having nowhere to vent.

"Hey, hey calm down.  What's wrong?"  Grissom's voice sounds a bit off, but it still gets her attention.

"Catherine" she hisses

"Why?  What did she do?" Grissom asks concerned.  Catherine really knows how to push her buttons.  

"She recognized your key!  How does she…."

Grissom grabs her shoulders, "slow down."

Sara takes a deep breath, "Sorry" she smiles weakly and then begins to sign, "**Catherine recognized your key.**"

"**And you're mad at her for being observant?**"  

"**She is so nosy!**" Sara rants.

"**She caught you lying didn't she?**" Grissom smiles a little, recognizing the real problem: Sara didn't like to be out smarted.

"Yeah" Sara reluctantly admits; the question takes the hot air out of her anger.

"**It's okay.  She would have figured it out eventually.**"  Grissom tries to reassure her that he isn't upset that someone knows they had been spending time together.  He doesn't want to think about what Catherine imagined them doing, though.

"**Figure out what?**" Sara responds, trying to force Grissom to admit something.

Grissom holds her gaze for a moment and then shrugs.

Sara drops her eyes; the moment becomes too intense for her.

"**I made diner**," Grissom can only hope that his surprise can restore Sara's good mood.

Sara looks up at him and then over to the kitchen, "**Candles, that's sweet**." She gives him one of her famous Sara Sidle smiles.

"**Would my lady like to take her seat**?"

"**Yes, she would**," Sara smiles again.

Grissom leads Sara over to the table and actually pulls the chair out for her.  They make small talk the best they can while they eat.  Grissom smiles inwardly to himself, for once he had succeeded in being romantic without screwing it up in some way.  Sara looks happier than she has in a long time and Grissom is overjoyed that he caused it.  

----------------------

Please Review!!  Thank you to those who have reviewed!

I'm afraid I will not be updating as often.  Classes have started and I do not have nearly as much time to write.


	22. The Evening After

Wow! I can't believe that it's been almost a year since the last time I updated. My CSI muse disappeared for a while, but I am glad to say it has at least momentarily returned. I am bound and determined to finish this fic. This is still set in between seasons three and four with Grissom just getting out of the hospital. Please enjoy and please have patience with my sporadic posting.

The soft rays of dusk filter through the curtain creating an intricate pattern across the cover, but do not disturb the sleeping figures in the bed. They are both breathing steadily, completely comfortable in each other's arms. Well, until one of them floats to consciousness.

Sara stiffens, her surroundings unfamiliar. Slowly, her confusion turns into the sweet reality of being held by Grissom. Memories of the morning before dance across her mind: the romantic dinner Grissom cooked, the causal conversation made silently adding to the cocoon like felling, for those brief moments in time only the two of them existed. Sara had never seen Grissom act the way he had that morning; it made her realize how much he really did want a relationship. Somehow the cocooned feeling had followed them as they changed for bed. It seemed like the most natural action on Earth for Sara to crawl into bed with Grissom.

However, Sara realizes that the romantic haze from that morning has faded. When Grissom wakes up the situation is going to be awkward. Sara considers her options: try to get of bed without waking Grissom or go back to sleep. The warm comforts of Grissom's arms are winning when Grissom himself wakes up.

Grissom panics internally, but puts a smile on his face for Sara's sake. This had seemed like such a good idea before, but Grissom has no idea what to do now. Sara distracts him by cupping his face with her hand; she beams a bright smile at him. Grissom pulls Sara closer and whispers, "go back to sleep," in her ear. They could discuss this later; it just feels too damn good to stop now.

Sara wakes to the beeping of Grissom's alarm clock, but no Grissom. She sighs; they weren't going to talk about this. Grissom appears in the doorway. "**Hey sleepyhead, do you plan on eating breakfast**."

Sara throws a pillow at him.

Grissom catches it, "**I see how you appreciate my hard work**."

Sara rolls her eyes, but gets out of bed, "**Let me guess, cereal**?"

Grissom looks shocked, "**No, omelets. Why would I feed you cereal**?"

Sara smiles and laughs a little, "**You snore**," she adds as she sits down at the kitchen table.

Grissom gives her a confused look: _What does that have to do with breakfast? _"**No, I don't**."

"**Sure, and I just imagined the loud noise in my ear**?"

Grissom takes a bite of his pancakes. He knows Sara want to talk, but…her startled look at the door disrupts his thinking.

"**Someone's at the door**."

"Oh," Grissom gives this a puzzled thought.

"**Are you going to answer it**?"

"**I guess**," he really has no idea who would be visiting him. "Catherine," he croaks a little too loudly when he opens the door.

" I wanted to see how you are," Catherine says as she pushes her way into the room. Grissom looks confused, as he has no idea what she had just said.

"Hi, Catherine," Sara reluctantly announces herself from the kitchen table.

Catherine looks from Sara back to Grissom in their pajamas. _Okay, so I'm just being nosey. Sue me!_

Sara quickly signs to Grissom and he responds back. "Grissom says he's fine and asks if there was anything else you wanted."

The hint of hostility was probably more from Sara than Grissom, but Catherine still got the message that she had interrupted a moment.

"Call me if you need anything. I need to get Lindsey to the babysitters."

Grissom nods after Sara interprets for him. She hastily makes her exit. That conflict would have to be dealt with later.

"**I should go get dressed. You let me sleep too long**."

"**Okay, we will talk about this**." Grissom adds sincerely.

"**Good**," Sara responds with a smile.

TBC

Reviews are greatly appreciated.


	23. The End

I know—I know—It's taken me forever to update, but life has been insane lately. Have fun with this next part!

* * *

Sara inspects the coffee pot in the break room. Someone had left it on too long yesterday and a layer of congealed mush was now stuck to the bottom. She debates about washing it out or just living with the caffeine that's already flowing through her veins. 

Nick walks in, "Hey Sar."

"Hey Nick," she replies still making faces at the coffee pot.

"What happened to the coffee pot?"

"Someone left it on again."

"Whose turn is it to buy a new one?"

"I think it's still salvageable."

"Do you think we can save it, Warrick?"

Warrick looks confused, having just walked into the room, as he tries to figure out what they are talking about, "Oh the coffee pot-- maybe with some heavy duty solvent."

"What are you guys all staring at?" Catherine asks, finally joining them with the assignment slips.

"The coffee pot-someone from days left it on again."

"And we have to pay for a new one. Whose turn is it?" She asks obviously annoyed at this situation.

"I think its Grissom's"

"Oh great, we have to wait a week and a half for another coffee pot."

"I wonder if Greg keeps one stashed away."

"Sara?"

Sara narrows her eyes at Catherine, "What? I bought the last one," she doesn't like where this is headed.

"Never mind," Catherine realizes, for once, that this isn't her secret to tell, "Let's leave it for days-maybe they'll get the message. Anyway-we need to get work."

* * *

Sara returns to Grissom's after work – it has become a habit now – one that she does not question. 

She bypasses the boxes that litter the hallway. She gives a hesitant wave to the movers as she unlocks the door. She fleetingly wonders if Grissom even knows who his neighbor is (was).

Grissom is fast asleep in the arm chair – head back – drool escaping his open mouth. Sara can't help, but smile at the picture he presents – no one would believe how adorable he looks in his sleep.

A compulsion comes over her – one that her mind knows is a bad idea, but the rest of her doesn't listen.

She kisses him softly, waiting for him to wake up. His eyes pop open in a panic – the silence of the world still keeping him on edge. He relaxes when he realizes that it is her, assuring them both that this is okay.

They drift back, smiling at each other.

"**_How was work_**?"

Sara shrugs, sitting down on the sofa, "**_Greg accidentally dyed his face blue_**."

Grissom merely raises his eyebrow – it doesn't really surprise him.

"**_Catherine kept her mouth shut_**," Sara bluntly states – the time for odd small talk had already passed in this relationship.

Grissom closes his eyes, wishing for a truce between these two women, "**_We have to tell them eventually_**."

"**_Tell them what_**?" Sara challenges.

Grissom realizes that this is the moment of truth – Sara would walk if he couldn't answer this question. He can't think of anything, but cliques – nothing that remotely sounds like he would say it. "**_That you're here_**."

Sara groans—this is not what she wanted.

Grissom blinks as Sara gets up to pace. The answer had sounded very profound in his head – it symbolized that he had come to terms with his apprehensions.

"**_What the hell does that mean_**?"

He nearly misses the question in her angry flailing.

He pulls her onto his lap – it isn't an easy feat with her desire not to let him take the easy way out. He kisses her neck slowly – softly -- trying to distract her long enough to think.

"I don't know what else you want me to say." He whispers in her ear, "

All I ever wanted was to be part of your heart,  
And for us to be together, to never be apart.

No one else in the world can even compare,  
You're perfect and so is this love that we share.

We have so much more than  
I ever thought we would,  
I love you more than I ever thought I could.

I promise to give you all I have to give,  
I'll do anything for you as long as I live.

In your eyes I see  
our present, our future and past,  
By the way you look at me  
I know we will last.

I hope that one day you'll come to realize,  
How perfect you are when seen through my eyes.  
I thought love was just a mirage of the mind,  
It's an illusion, it's fake, impossible to find.  
But the day I met you, I began to see,  
That love is real, and exists in me.."

Sara starts to shake – Grissom panics – he can't hear what sound she's making.

She turns around in his lap – he can see the smile that reaches her eyes as she giggles.

She kisses him softly, "**_Your neighbors are moving out_.**"

"I hadn't noticed."

"**_My neighbors play rock music in the middle of the day_**."

He gets it – the convenience – an easy way to explain everything to the outside world.

He kisses her forehead and holds her tightly.

The End

* * *

The end has finally come and so I wish to thank all of my loyal readers! 

The poem is by one love from the lovingyou website.


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